The Infamous Rape on Fleet Street
by Enheduanna of Ur
Summary: Diego has an unhealthy crush, Mrs. Lovett has a dirty plan, and Sweeney Todd owes someone a rather large favor.  You didn't think that Lucy was the only person on Fleet Street to have been sexually assaulted, did you?  DARK HUMOR ABOUNDS. MWAHAHA
1. Silver Lining

**WARNING WARNING WARNING: Dark humor ahead. Those easily offended should turn back now. All sickos may continue. **

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd, Go Diego Go, my neighbor Caroline, or Dora the Explorer. I only own this piece of shit I call my mind.

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><p><span>In Which Sweeney Todd Finds the Silver Lining<span>

Now, at a particular time in history, Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett were singing, killing, singing while killing, and making us all fall hopelessly in love with them. Dora was exploring. Diego was saving animals on weekday mornings at ten.

_OR WAS HE?_

No. According to my three-year-old neighbor Caroline, whom I used to babysit on a regular basis, Diego spent every free moment stalking Dora. He watched her through the windows at preschool, swimming lessons, ballet class, even peering through her windows to watch her as she slept. (I kid you not, this is what Caroline told me).

This is even more sick if you realize, like I did, that Dora and Diego are totally related. They're actually cousins.

Yes, Diego dreamed about Dora in ways no five-year-old should, and said to no one in particular, "I want that little girl..."

The day came when Diego could no longer stand it. I think it was a Thursday. From wherever jungle he lives in, he flew his horrid little hang-glider across the Atlantic Ocean to Fleet Street, in London.

As it turns out, Diego had lent Sweeney Todd some cash when they were fighting together in Vietnam. How else do you think Sweeners could afford those chased silver razors? He owed Diego a favor.

Up in the tonsorial parlor, Diego explained to the Demon Barber that he needed help in capturing Dora, for rapial purposes. Sweeney agreed, though he internally disagreed with Diego whether or not "rapial" was actually a word. He thinks the author of this fanfiction just made it up. Either way, Sweeney had been secretly curious about rape himself, curious as to whether it was as fun as murder (which is like, total ecstasy, you know).

However, as much as Diego offered, Sweeney did not want to rape Dora. He was a revenge-oriented mega-dreamy serial killer, _not_ a pedophile, thank-you-very-much.

He figured he had three options: Johanna (_oh em gee, no thanks, that's my kid_), that old weird Beggar Woman (_Haha, no. Maybe if she looked more like Lucy, but she looks nothing like her whatsoever in any way, shape, or form_), and Mrs. Lovett (_she'd be the easiest to get ahold of, but she'll also stalk me for days afterwards_). Sweeney decided to go with door number three: Nellie Lovett it was.

As Sweeney watched Diego fly away, he thought that it really wasn't fair that he owed Diego a favor. He saved that kid's ass in 'Nam, more than once. But every cloud has a silver lining. He got to try sexual assault! (Which, by the way, _totally _didn't sink him to the Judge's level. That was unthinkable. This was different. Somehow).

Sweeney firmly believed that in life, one should always try new things. Except for Mrs. Lovett's clam chowder. He wasn't trying that one for as long as he lived.

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><p>Yes, ok, this is going to be multi-chaptered and cracky. Bear with me.<p>

But Caroline did legit tell me that Diego stalked Dora. I about peed my pants laughing.


	2. Instigation

**I'm gonna pull a Lemony Snicket and tell you to turn back now, guys and gals. **

Disclaimer: I don't own it, and you should be glad. 'Cause if I did, this would have happened ;)

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><p><span>In Which Mrs. Lovett Instigates<span>

Well, the big day came, and Mrs. Lovett and Dora were promptly tied to either side of the meat grinder in the cellar. However, the guys had run out of rope, so they were also using the curtain cords from Mrs. Lovett's parlor. Getting them all trussed up wasn't as hard as they'd been expecting, though there was a chance Mrs. Lovett wasn't really resisting. She just didn't want her curtain cords soiled.

Diego wasted no time in doing exactly what he'd been intending to do. At first, he let Dora scream freely, because he thought it was muy sexy. But Sweeney kept having to run up the stairs to answer the doorbell: people were asking what all the racket was. Mrs. Lovett herself suggested that they gag Dora, right after announcing that if someone didn't shut her up, she was going to scream as well.

Sweeney Todd was anxious. He'd never raped before. He didn't even know what to do, or where to start! He tried to get an idea by watching Diego, but Diego moves too fast for the naked human eye to see.

Mrs. Lovett chuckled. "You're not sure what to do, are you, love?" Sweeney looked away, sort of embarrassed, but nodded. "Do you want me to tell you?" she asked, dead serious.

Yeah, so the victim usually doesn't instruct the rapist on how to commit the crime. But Sweeney was scared, poor dear. And Mrs. Lovett is a little overzealous, personality wise.

The Demon Barber thought for a second, then nodded.

"Alright, how do we begin... Just..." Mrs. Lovett murmured, "Hit me."

Sweeney Todd stared. In his left hand was the silver razor. "With the knife?"

"No!" she snapped, with the impatient air of explaining something to a child. "Hitting with a knife is called stabbing. Do me a favor and unbutton my dress, would you, Mr. T? My hands are a little tied up."

"_Hey_," he said, suddenly realizing something. "You want this!"

Mrs. Lovett lied through her teeth. "No, I'm just..."

"Instigating!"

"Cooperating." she finished, fooling nobody. Not even Dora, who is pretty close to being legally retarded.

Sweeney Todd shook his head. "What's the point of rape if the victim actually wants it? That just makes it sex. This is stupid."

"And _what's wrong with plain sex?_"

"NO." Sweeney said, all deep-voiced and final. But he was disappointed: he'd really wanted to try raping something. So much for a silver lining.

Mrs. Lovett sighed. "You and your stupid quirks. Makes me just want to kill myself sometimes."

Sweeney Todd perked up like a cat that hears a mouse's footfalls. He'd been so disappointed with the evening, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun now. Murder was total ecstasy, you know...

"Kill yourself?" he said with a smirk, as he began to stalk ever nearer, razor held aloft all sharp and deadly. "Mind if I help?"

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><p>*Dramatic music* Stay tuned to see if Mrs. Lovett dies!<p>

("Stay tuned", I can't believe I just said that... Could I have sunk any lower, literary-wise?)


	3. A Lesson The Hard Way

**Are you really still with me? How kind of you! X)**

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney, and for this he should be grateful.

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><p><span>In Which Sweeney Todd Learns His Lesson the Hard Way<span>

"No, wait, STOP!" Cried Mrs. Lovett, panicking. "I was only joking, I don't want to die, literally! Only metaphorically, because you don't want to sleep with me. Like, it's a self-esteem thing. My inner confidence is - MR. T. ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?"

Sweeney was stalking toward her, with a creepy grin on his face, looking like a kid on Christmas morning (a kid with a goofy white streak in his hair at that). He was also tip-toeing in anticipation. The effect was not appealing: he looked like an overzealous fangirl.

"Come on..." Mrs. Lovett sighed in defeat. "You don't ship us, even a little bit...?"

Sweeney Todd's eyes widened in horror. "What? Ship Sweenett? Hell no! I'm a Swucy fan, baby!" And with that, he held the razor tightly and raised high to stab.

Then, a disaster happened.

The notorious Glenn Quagmire, hiding expertly in the meat grinder to watch the show, poked his head out the top. "Kinky!" he yelled, unable to keep quiet any longer.

Many things happened at once. Diego looked up, taking his attention away from Dora for a second, who took her chance. She kneed Diego, right where knees do not belong, and the creeper fell to the floor. But then, instead of building on this act of defiance and bravery, Dora sat down criss-cross applesauce on the ground and bawled. So yeah, Dora is kind of dumb.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the grinder, Sweeney was bent over his landlady and stalker, poised to murder her. When Quagmire popped up, he was startled and fell, accidentally delivering a glancing slash to Mrs. Lovett's shoulder. She gasped in pain, but she was smarter than Dora and took the blunder as a passing opportunity.

The baker wrenched her right arm free of the rope and reached down into the top of her dress. She pulled out Pirelli's money bag and, cursing, tossed it aside. Rummaging around again, and finally finding what she was looking for, pulled out a derringer pistol, fully loaded.

(Incidentally, rumor has it that this particular pistol was the same one John Wilkes Booth used to shoot Abraham Lincoln in 1865. Don't ask me how Mrs. Lovett got it. I don't know. Also, I don't know how she fits so much stuff in her bra. Maybe it's made of the same stuff that Mary Poppins' bag is made of.

"I just wish we could've had a little _fun_ before this had to happen, if you get my drift." she said with an evil half-smile on her lips.

_BANG!_

A single bullet through the brain instantly killed the infamous Sweeney Todd.

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><p>Though apparently Sweeney doesn't, I ship Sweenett. I love it very much. But I ship Swucy too. ("Sweeney! Nellie! Enough fighting. I said enough! Don't make Fangirl come back there! You can both ship whomever you like!")<p> 


	4. The Last Bullet

**A big thanks to the five people (out of hundreds) who actually bothered to review. You're the reason I'm here finishing this piece of crap. :D And olive you. **

Disclaimer: ... No...

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><p><span>In Which Mrs. Lovett Uses Her Last Bullet<span>

Sweeney Todd fell to the ground, dead. Mrs. Lovett, with some difficulty, managed to untie herself from the meat grinder. She raised herself up off the floor, and walked around to the other side of the grinder, where Dora and Diego were, her pistol still held aloft. Diego looked up...

... His eyes widened...

In the half-light, Diego seemed to see Mrs. Lovett for the first time. It's true his mind was as cracked as an egg on the side of a house on Halloween night, but in his defense she did look unintentionally sexy, what with her arm bleeding, dress ripped so revealingly low, and gun in hand.

Diego decided he was finished with the still-wailing Dora.

He wanted Nellie.

Unfortunately for Diego, he didn't seem to realize that Mrs. Lovett, unlike Dora, was a strong, fully-grown woman with a clever yet psychotic mind, little patience for small horny boys, and a loaded gun.

At first, Mrs. Lovett didn't understand what he was doing, and simply stared. Then she knew.

"Easy now!" she laughed, cracking up at his intentions. "I don't think this is gonna work, love... I'm a bit too old for you, dearie..."

Diego took a few crooked, staggered steps (made difficult by his one dragging foot, and his twitching eye), before breathing creepily, "I want that little girl..."

_Holy shit, the kid is serious.._

"Who's little?" Mrs. Lovett snorted before raising the gun to him. He didn't stop, so she fired once, hitting him in the chest.

He didn't stop.

The second bullet, in his gut, didn't do him in either. "God in heaven...! Die!" Mrs. Lovett muttered under her breath. All in all, it took four shots to take down Diego.

She parked it in a chair for a moment, resting, and gingerly touching her sliced shoulder. It was a shallow cut. But suddenly, the baker jumped back up, remembering something she had to do: what she was going to use her last bullet for.

She peered into the top of the meat grinder. Sure enough, Quagmire was still in there. He grinned up at her sheepishly, and she noted that he was wearing the deceased Pirelli's pants... The already-buried Pirelli's pants...

"I'll let you be the star, sugar!" he said, holding up a videocamera. Mrs. Lovett grabbed him by the ear like a first grader, and dragged him from the meat grinder. She released him, and carefully pointed the gun at his head.

"Any last words?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, and raised himself up onto his knees to make a great speech. As he opened his mouth, Mrs. Lovett shot his brains out.

"Poor bugger. Oh well."

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><p>One more chapter after this, so don't go away! Hit the subscribe button or I'll send Mrs. Lovett to hit your face. How ya like that?<p> 


	5. Epilogue

**My spanish is directly from google translate. If you have a better translation, let me know. **

Disclaimer: It's silly to have to use disclaimers on a fanfiction site. Shouldn't it be a little self-explanatory? I mean, really people... None of this is mine, save the plot.

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><p><span>In Which The Epilogue is Awesome<span>

Dora, still on the floor where Diego left her, finally stopped crying. She looked around, saw Diego's body on the floor (WHERE'S THE DEAD BODY OF THE RAPIST? DO _YOU_ SEE THE DEAD BODY OF THE RAPIST? WHERE?) and finally realized that the loud boomy noise she'd heard was a gunshot.

"Hooray!" she cheered, jumping into the air like she normally does. "You've saved me, Mrs. Lovett! Gracias!"

Mrs. Lovett only raised her eyebrows, and began to laugh.

Under gunpoint, Mrs. Lovett forced Dora to load up the meat grinder with the bodies of Sweeney, Quagmire, and Diego, grind them, and bake them into a fresh batch of pies.

You as (I assume) smart people may have realized that the last chapter was titled In Which Mrs. Lovett Uses Her Last Bullet. She was out of bullets. However, anyone who watches her show knows that Dora has counting problems. She is generally a few watts short of a lightbulb, if you get my drift.

Mrs. Lovett tied Dora back up, took the pies upstairs to her shop, locked the cellar door, and went about her business as usual.

_OR DID SHE?_

No. She added a secret ingredient to the pies, one that she'd gotten from Toby (he knew a guy who knew a guy...).

Dope. She doped the pies.

To say her business skyrocketed would be an understatement. People on Fleet Street hadn't met such an addiction since the Great Pornography Outbreak of 1839. Demand for the food boomed.

And she's still doing it!

That "woman alone" is now in charge of one of the busiest restaurants in London. She was able to hire many people to help her, including Boots, the Beadle, Swiper No Swiping, and Chuck Norris.

She doesn't pay these people, however. She just lets them have a corner of the shop to sleep in, enough food to keep them alive, and some dope in order to keep them completely dependent on her. They couldn't leave her unless they found another way to get their dope.

Toby supplies Mrs. Lovett with this crucial drug once every week. He charges only a few hours alone with Dora.

Dora, still Mrs. Lovett's slave, tries to teach everyone Spanish. It sort of works.

"¡Date prisa y cocinar las empanadas, estúpida!" says Mrs. Lovett. Translation: Hurry up and cook those pies, stupid girl!

"Quitarse los pantalones, pequeña zorra." says Toby. Translation: Take off your pants, little slut.

"Necesitamos drogas ahora! Nyhaaaaaaa!" say the shop workers. Translation: Need drugs now! Nyhaaaaaaa!

Many people have come to investigate this odd scenario, including Stephen Sondheim, Tim Burton, and The Obsessionist. They (as you readers know) never come back quite the same (the author giggles madly). Maybe it's the dope.

Mrs. Lovett has seen various productions of the musical Sweeney Todd. She likes them, says she loves music, but also concedes that she's far sluttier than anyone so far has portrayed her. She invited actresses who play her over to her shop for tea and pies after they've finished their productions.

Consecutively, Angela Lansbury, Sheila Hancock, Patti LuPone, and Helena Bonham Carter have all mysteriously disappeared.

You may be thinking, _is this all true?_

Cross my heart and hope to metaphorically die, it is.

Still don't believe me? Just go down to her shop. She's still on Fleet Street, independent, successful, and friendly when asked questions. Just go and talk to her.

But whatever you do, don't eat the pies.

You never know what's in 'em.


End file.
